by Candis Terry
He rubbed the center of his chest, willing the ache to go away. Holding back the urge to cry from all the lies, the losses, the lingering devastation for everyone involved. All his life he’d thought his parents had one of those marriages that nothing could shake, rattle, or destroy. He’d just never imagined how badly, once cracked, the foundation could shatter.
Inhaling a hard breath, he suddenly remembered he’d left Gabriella alone in the kitchen.
The woman had an uncanny understanding of things. And she’d hinted that she’d traveled some rough roads of her own. She had a warm embrace and a soft place that made his heart feel good.
Right now he needed to let this all go. He needed someone to hold. Someone to tell him everything was going to be okay.
Even if it was a damn lie.
He pushed through the stainless door, but the kitchen was empty. He opened the back door and stepped outside. The entire area as far as he could see was void of another living soul.
Gabriella was gone.
And once again he had no way to contact her. No way to know if she’d arrived home safe and sound.
Damn she was good at this disappearing act shit.
Maybe he should just let her go and forget the whole thing. After all, they’d agreed on one night.
And it had been one hot, crazy, unforgettable night.
Shaking his head, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tapped Lucy’s name in his contact list. When his call went straight to voicemail he hung up without leaving a message. Then he tapped on another contact and called in the cavalry.
Shaken to the core, Gabi drove her little car through the rolling hills of Sunshine Valley toward home.
She never should have eavesdropped.
The last time she’d had the displeasure of doing so had been when her mother had called out her father for having an affair. That argument had led to their divorce and the subsequent destruction of Gabi’s entire world. She’d been a fragile, self-conscious suburban Chicago high schooler at the time. An age where appearances were everything and gossip could shatter your spirit.
She’d once been a proud member of the popular crowd. A cheerleader. A member of the honor society. And though she’d personally never done anything to embarrass or hurt anyone else, she’d seen how some of her friends had treated others with less care and consideration. When the bomb detonated on her life, instead of understanding her situation and caring for her like friends should do, they’d turned on her like a pack of wild dogs.
At a time when she’d been devastated by her father’s betrayal and her mother’s subsequent withdrawal from any kind of participation in her life, she’d been completely shattered by those she’d once called friends.
This time her eavesdropping had been eye opening in a completely different kind of way.
Listening to Parker talk to his sister with so much love and passion opened up something inside of Gabi. She knew he was a decent person; otherwise she’d never have slept with him. But having the opportunity to actually watch, or in this case hear, his love and compassion broke something loose inside of her.
For years she’d compared every guy she’d dated to her father—and not in a good way. She always felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, or for him to show the true colors he’d most likely been hiding. For a while she’d even made it a point to only date leavers because she knew eventually they would.
At the end of the day she hadn’t needed a therapist to tell her she had daddy issues. Which was why she’d stopped dating altogether and bought Basil for male companionship. He could make all the threats he wanted by flashing his colorful tail, but in the end, she knew he’d never leave her until he went to the big fish bowl in the sky.
But if she were ever in the market for a forever guy, Parker would top the list. She knew he’d be the kind of man who’d commit to loving someone and he’d give it his all. He’d protect them and their hearts at all costs.
Gabi couldn’t ever remember having that kind of love or security. And as appealing as it might be, she had a long way to go before she could even consider being in that kind of relationship with that kind of man.
No matter how good it sounded.
Falling in love wasn’t anywhere on her radar. But she was human, and she tried to keep hope alive that not all men were dogs. Tonight, Parker had proven himself to be a prince. If she were to actually work side by side with him, the inevitability that she’d fall head over heels existed. He had everything going for him. He was gorgeous, kind, polite, caring, and protective. He had a plan for his life and he was going after it two hundred percent. He was responsible and funny. And he made love to her with care, consideration, and a whole lot of hell yeah.
So how could she not fall in love?
Early Sunday morning Gabi took a cool shower to wake up. Last night her mind had refused to shut off and sleeping had become impossible. Even when she’d tried to turn her thoughts to something other than Parker Kincade, they circled right back around again.
She couldn’t work for him.
She couldn’t work with him.
She had to distance herself from him before she got too involved.
She realized that now.
Unfortunately she’d banked everything on Plan A and had nothing as a backup.
Currently she was unemployed with a savings account that would only cover a couple of months. That was it. A stupid move to quit her job for sure. But even without the prospect of working at Parker’s Sunshine & Vine, she knew she couldn’t have lasted another day working for an employer who not only didn’t respect good food, he didn’t respect her, or even himself.
The day she’d quit, the noose had tightened. If her life depended on it, she knew she couldn’t make one more PB&J. Couldn’t shove one more frozen pizza in the oven. Couldn’t microwave one more bag of popcorn. And no way would she deal with having to thwart his wandering hands.
Now the holidays loomed. She had presents to buy, rent to pay, and fish pellets to provide for Basil who currently swam around in his bowl like he didn’t have a care in the world.
She had to make a new plan.
One that didn’t involve Parker or his restaurant. She had to find a way to make a professional name for herself to reclaim her pride. To prove her father wrong. And she had to keep a tight hold on her heart until she made that happen.
But on this dark and dreary Sunday, there was an opportunity for her to spread her love in another way and lift her spirits at the same time. When she felt good she thought clearer. Outside the box.
Yes, that’s exactly what she needed to do.
She needed to stop thinking about herself and put that energy into helping someone else.
In full go mode, she went to the pantry and pulled out an armload of ingredients. Then she took out a few of the large disposable aluminum pans she kept on hand. She got busy turning on the oven and stove burners, and pulling everything to the center of the small kitchen island she’d purchased to give her more counter space in her dinky one bedroom apartment.
As she filled the pots with water, Basil swam up to the glass of his bowl, pursed his fish lips, and blew a bubble.
“Oh. So now you want to get chummy? Where were you when I needed a friend a few minutes ago?”
Basil blew another bubble then turned his tail and, once again, disappeared behind his plastic foliage.
“Careful, buster, or I’ll replace you with a cat.”
Just as she reached into the lower cupboard to bring out her big stainless mixing bowl, the doorbell rang.
She glanced at the clock and wondered who could be at her door before noon on Sunday. Surely it wasn’t the nosy Mrs. Flagstone two buildings down. No doubt she’d be at church, praying for the souls of people like Gabi who only hit the pews on rare occasions. Then again, maybe Mrs. Flagstone had the right idea. Maybe if Gabi invested a little more time in prayer, her circumstances might change. But Gabi had never been the type to think it was okay
to call on God to fix the mess that had become of her life.
She could do this.
God had plenty of other things to take care of.
When the bell rang again, Gabi had no choice but to answer.
She flipped the locks, swung open the door, and couldn’t believe her eyes when she found a sexy, dark-haired, blue-eyed man leaning casually against her doorway.
“Hello, Houdini.”
Parker knew he shouldn’t start the visit with sarcasm, but the moment he’d opened his mouth it just came spewing out. He’d spent the entire sleepless night worrying about why she’d disappeared and if she’d made it home okay. Then he’d dealt with a construction crew who’d shown up at o-dark-thirty to begin installing the foundation for the heating and cooling system and they’d needed his help. Finally he’d managed to grab a shower up at the main house, where he’d had to dodge Aunt Pippy’s efforts to force-feed him a plate of cinnamon rolls from Sugarbuns Bakery. And where she’d efficiently dodged him about the information she needed to reveal about his father’s affair.
A short while later he’d managed to shoot out the door to zip back to Portland. No thanks to Google Maps, he’d spent the last twenty minutes trying to locate Gabriella’s place in the maze of buildings and overgrown foliage that made up her apartment complex.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her wide eyes revealed that finding him at her door had been the last thing she’d expected.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Her teeth snagged her lush lower lip while she gave his question some consideration.
Just when he thought she’d extend the invitation she proved him wrong. “How did you find me?”
“I sold my soul to the devil.”
“You shouldn’t have made the deal. Or the effort.”
Too bad.
He wanted to know why the hell she kept disappearing. Especially last night when they’d obviously been on the same lust-driven page. Before he’d gone to talk to Nicole, everything had seemed fine. And yet, Gabriella had vanished without a word.
“Look.” He eased his shoulder off the doorjamb and took a step closer. She smelled sweet and fresh like sugar and lemons. The crazy desire to bury his face in the curve of her neck and gently suck on her soft flesh until she moaned overwhelmed him. “We can stand here playing the fifty-questions game, or you can invite me in so we can talk.”
“I’m busy.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the empty apartment. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Or are you really just trying to keep me out because you have another guy hidden in there?”
“I’m busy.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m a big helper.” He pushed past her and walked into the small but tidy apartment. He was impressed that the place wasn’t decorated like total Girlyville with lace and ruffles. Instead she’d cleverly filled the space with a traditional style in welcoming shades of brown and accented everything with pops of green from a healthy array of plants. Mostly herbs. So maybe when she suggested he create a garden for his restaurant she knew what she was talking about.
“Nice place.”
For a moment she stood there as though trying to decide whether to close the door or kick him out. Finally, she sighed her resignation and shut the door. Clearly she hadn’t been expecting company.
Least of all him.
A pair of yoga pants with a zebra print waistband and a hot pink sports bra accented her luscious curves. Her feet were stuffed into fuzzy house shoes. And her long, silky hair was pulled up on top of her head in one of those messy just-out-of-bed buns. Not an ounce of makeup covered her face and she wore a pair of dark-framed glasses.
She looked sexy as hell.
And he was definitely going to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said, moving further into the apartment where several stockpots of water had started to boil and steam on the stove.
“You’ve only known me for a week.”
“So . . . contacts the rest of the time?”
“The answer to that is pretty obvious. So let’s go back to my original questions.” She crossed her arms and tilted her head. “What are you doing here? And exactly how did you find me?”
“I have friends in high places with access to things like the address of a woman who keeps popping into my life then disappearing without telling me her phone number. I had to come see for myself that she’s who she says she is and isn’t just a figment of my imagination. And especially not that she keeps disappearing because she’s involved with another man.”
He glanced around the apartment again. “So are you? Because that’s the only reason I can come up with that you keep disappearing.”
“I’m not involved with any man. But aside from that, do I look like the kind of woman who’d be involved with more than one guy at a time?”
“Sweetheart, you look like the kind of woman who needs to be taken back to bed and shown a good time. But I’m thinking that if you already had a guy doing that, you wouldn’t have come on to me.”
“I came on to you?” Her dark eyes widened and her luscious mouth dropped open.
“That’s my story.”
“Well, your story could use a few revisions.”
He shrugged, strolled into the small kitchen, looked into the boiling pots of water, and checked out the ingredients on the counter. “What are you trying to make?”
“Sense of what you’re doing here,” she said, clearly agitated, but not enough to put the effort into a full-blown hissy fit.
“Just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“You expect me to buy that?”
At the sharpness in her tone, he looked up from the cellophane packages of noodles and boxes of panko breadcrumbs on the counter. “Yes.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.” She pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped the bun on her head.
“Is that my cue to leave?”
“Your cue to leave was the frown I gave you when I opened the door.”
“Look. I’m sorry. I would have called. But I didn’t have your number.”
“I gave it to Lucy.”
“Lucy was busy doing future-wife things with my brother.”
The hint of a smile touched her lips. “In other words they were intimately engaged and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt?”
“In other words, if I’d have interrupted, Groomzilla would have taken off my head and used it as a pumpkin decoration.”
Her smile grew just slightly.
“Look. I’m not usually a stalker kind of guy. But you’ve shown up three times saying you want to work for me at my restaurant. You’ve cooked a spectacular meal for me. I’ve seen you naked. I’ve had my mouth on most of your delicious body. And I know the sounds you make when you come the first, second, third, and fourth time.” He came around the kitchen island to stand in front of her. “So what part of all that says I don’t deserve to have your number so I can make sure you’re okay when you take off like the Road Runner with Wile E. Coyote on your tail?”
“When you put it like that, I guess you’re probably right.”
“You guess?” It wasn’t anger, fear, or embarrassment that tinged her beautiful face with shades of pink, it was something else. And he needed to find out what.
When he moved close, settled his hand on her hip, and drew her toward him, she didn’t resist.
“Last night when I went back into the kitchen and you were gone, I was genuinely worried. Not that we’ve ever had any kind of incident at the vineyard, but you were just . . . gone. Again. No goodbye. No you’re a jerk, Parker Kincade, and I never want to see you again. Nothing. Zip. Nada.” He shrugged. “So sue me. I’m a worrier.”
“I’m sorry.” She glanced away. “Bad habit.”
“Of running?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Trust issues.
”
He searched her face for any sign of BS, but all he found was an expression of total honesty.
Now they were getting somewhere.
“Well trust me, Gabriella, you have no reason to run from me. Got that?” He settled both hands on her hips and lowered his head to kiss her.
Effectively dodging him, she edged her head back. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Kissing?”
Again he received a nod.
“Kissing is a great idea.” He captured her mouth to prove it.
A moment of hesitation lingered before she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into his body.
Reluctantly he ended the kiss, and not just because he didn’t want her to think he’d only come here for sex. Even as mind-blowing as it had been. He honestly wanted to know what was going on with her, what was up with the array of ingredients on her counter, and why she tried to be so secretive.
“You want coffee?” She blushed like that had been their first kiss. Like he hadn’t previously had his mouth on some of her most private places.
“Love some.”
“Pumpkin spice creamer?” She opened the refrigerator door. “Sugar?”
“Black.”
“Huh. I figured you for a fancy coffee kind of guy.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because it’s obvious that you enjoy flavor. Black coffee is kind of boring.” She removed a vintage sugar container in the shape of an English country cottage from the cupboard. “And you are far from a boring kind of guy.”
“Thank you. I try to be as least uninteresting as possible. Nice to know someone noticed.”
She poured his coffee into a Waffle House mug and slid it to him across the counter.
He held up the mug, read the logo, and laughed. “Somewhere you frequent often?”
“I wish. If we had one here I’d be tempted to go every day.”
“So are you a fan of the waffles or hash browns?”
“Hash browns. Smothered, covered, and capped, thank you very much.”
“I promise I won’t judge.”
“Have you ever eaten there?”
“Can’t say I have.” He sipped the strong coffee.